At the Ground’s edge on the festive day
A mother waits to field her colt in race
No sooner announcement hit her ear-drums,
Sets her son out’ a cage and boy takes to wings
With many a competitors at the start
On command, boy runs up, in a flash
Grasps by mouth, a bun on string
Hands being tied behind are of no help
Still, the boy knew how to manage
All what he needed was the courage.
Devoured the bun and as was about to get back
Changed mind, he, beholding another bun close by
Meanwhile others claimed winners’ positions,
Unruffled, boy quietly concludes his mission
And he returns straight for reporting to mother
“I had two” said he, pointing two fingers.
“I saw, but, what about her? ” she queried,
Patting daughter on shoulder, seemed worried.
Pulling out a half-bun from pants pocket,
“This, I picked up for her” he held it out.
Sky, blue and bright, with cottony cloud shred
Let sun shower rays, to brighten up the triad
Such a beautiful poem. Thumbs up please read and comment on my poems
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How wonderful! I was amazed to imagine their misfortune but a momentary triumph of sunshine, sharing, love and ingenuity, survival while maintaining dignity. Thank you for the inspiring words.
Thank you Edmund for your comment.